Breaking Tradition
by Amara120
Summary: Tara is a girl being pushed into the role of Cinderella by a force of magic know as The Tradition, that is until she decides to become a fairy godparent and push The Tradition around instead. FEMSLASH, don't like it don't read. WillowTara
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**Title:** Breaking Tradition

**Rating:** PG-13 (I will be writing some actual smut, not sure if I have the courage to actually post it, but if I do it will be on the Kitten Board and not here. If people want I'll make a note of it with a link)

**Summary:** Tara is a girl being pushed into the role of Cinderella by a force of magic know as The Tradition, that is until she decides to become a fairy godparent and push The Tradition around instead.

**Setting:** UBER Mercedes Lackey's "The Fairy Godmother"

**Feedback:** yes, please?

**Distribution:** yep, just let me know

**Note:** Yes I know, another BtVS fic. What can I say? I love Tara and Willow (mostly Tara because I identify way too much with Willow). They are just so cute. This is also I response to the passage from the book which I quote; it begged a rebuttal esp. since Lackey is generally really good about homosexual relationships. UPDATES EVERY MONTH, I know I've been bad at that so I created a buffer which I actually hope never to use but midterms are coming up so I do have that in-case-of-emergency fall back. One last item, I created a graphic banner thingy of the title, anyone know if I can post it on here somehow?

**B**reaking**T**radition

**Another Tale of the Five Hundred Kingdoms**

"_Nor are you the only girl to whom this has happened with this particular tale. All over the Five Hundred Kingdoms, down through time, there have been countless girls like you for whom the circumstances were not right. Their destined princes were graybeards, infants, married, or terrible rakes, or not even princes at all, but princesses!"_

_--Godmother Bella The Fairy Godmother by Mercedes Lackey_

T he birds where singing sweetly in greeting to the rosy light that was just beginning to edge over the horizon. One particularly brave chap, a tiny yellow fellow with dashing black bands, alighted on the window still and fluffed out his feathers. Tara McClay, or Soot as she was disparagingly known as to those few who remembered any name for her (generally when they needed her for something), smiled and playfully flicked her soapy fingers at him. She was hunched over the sink scrubbing as many of the pots and pans as she could before the dishes actually containing breakfast where done and ready to be cleaned again. "Shoo you," she told him. She wiped her hand across her forehead and absentmindedly tucked a lock of long blondish hair behind her ear. "You should be out enjoying the spring and impressing a mate with your warbles, not sitting in this dusty old kitchen." With that, Tara turned to check on the bread and found herself critically regarding the room in question. Truly, it was her favorite part of the cottage, unless you counted the garden (which far too cold for much of the year), and the only place in which she could sometimes find refuge. Fragrant bundles of herbs dangled from the kitchen rafters and a fire continuously burned in the hearth that Tara loved to sit and watch, dreaming that she was somewhere far away. When she turned back to the sink, she discovered that the bird had heeded her advice after all. "I wish I where you," she whispered after him. _I wish I where free to fly away from here._

"SOOT!" a voice thundered through the walls causing the drying herb bundles to tremble. At the sound Tara unconsciously ducked her head, her hair falling forward to obscure her face, and tucked her arms close to her sides. "BREAKFAST READY YET?"

Hurriedly Tara grabbed the already prepared tray and slipped out of the kitchen. She missed its safe, dull wooden walls instantly. The rest of the house conformed to the highest fashion with ornate fixings and gaudy colors, under which the truth of their financial status was appallingly noticeable. Trembling slightly she entered the dinning room and set the tray on the table between her father and her brother. Gingerly she served them, her movements quick and flightily. Donny could generally be counted on not to trip her if it meant she would drop his own breakfast. However, Tara wasn't about to trust his self-interest to overcome his mean streak if she didn't get the much more pleasant and distracting food in front of him quickly. As much as she wanted to flee after she set the last item in front of Donny, Dad had ideas about what was proper and his ideas of proper included them all having breakfast and dinner together as a family. Tara sank into her seat at the square table careful not to even squeak the legs of the chair against the floor.

They ate in silence. She couldn't leave until Dad has risen and excused them. He ate his food leisurely while Donny shoveled the food into his mouth in a manner that was barely civil. Tara grew paler and paler as she watched Donny's plate empty while Dad smeared butter across the flaking surface of his toast. She was conscience of every half-heal raw green and purple mark on her body, under the hideous bulky dress she wore. Before she began to hyperventilate Tara began the breathing meditation pattern she had learned from her mother. Even though her hands where shaking Tara forced herself to continue sipping her tea.

"Soot," Dad said suddenly, startling even Donny.

"Y-y-yes S-s-s-sir?" Tara asked, curling up unconsciously, drawing back against the solid wood of the chair.

"You're to mind the house tonight. Be a good girl. You remember the rules."

Unable to speak, Tara nodded; she remembered.

"Good," he said. He sounded pleased. It was the same sickening tone of voice he used after one of her 'lessons.' Tara had learned to both hate it and greet it with relief. "We'll be out late; the Ball doesn't end until well after midnight."

"B-b-ball?" Tara asked in spite of herself. That was her problem! She couldn't always stop things from leaving her mouth. Tara closed her eyes and cringed as the backhand caught her solidly against her cheek and knocked her back into the strong frame of her chair.

"Charming Princess Golden-Rose Enberg's Engagement Day Ball," Dad informed her, wiping his hand on his napkin.

"O-o-one of the, um, Qu-questers got t-t-t-t-t-through?" Tara asked. She realized her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

"Donny it seems your sister has forgotten her place. Please remind her that curiosity is not a virtue and that women should hold their wagging tongues when in a Man's presents."

W hen they where finished with her Tara dragged herself out the tree that grew above her mother's grave in the town's cemetery. She lay in the leaves at the tree's roots unmindful of the dirt. Sometimes she imagined that her mother would sit with her, put an arm around her, and stroke her hair like she used to before she died.

The entire village had been talking about the Ball, Princess Rose and her Prince, Daniel Ozborneth, as Tara made her way to the grave. So was every other village in the kingdom most likely, for Princess Rose was universally adored by her people. Even as a child she was the most beautiful little girl anyone had ever seen; everyone who met her could only describe her as charming. Eventually people had begun to refer to her as Princess Charming. That nickname had been replaced after her Father's unfortunate encounter with a Midas Fish in the royal well. Princess Rose had, of course, been turned to gold by her Father's touch. Henceforth people had referred to the charming Princess as Golden-Rose when they spoke about her fate in hushed tones. Everyone was relived that a Quester had finally succeeded in turning her back to flesh. Even now Prince Daniel was escorting her back to the castle.

Her eyes began to burn and Tara realized she was crying. She didn't know why. She had met the Princess once, when they were children. The market had been crowed for the parade and Donny had shoved her out of his way, making her fall on the cobbles. Tara remembered a soft voice asking if she was alright and a gentle hand gripping her shoulder. She had looked up into the deepest green eyes framed by hair as glittery and crackling as the kitchen fire. Angrily Tara wiped the tears away, ignoring the sting of the salt in the abrasions on the back of her hand. If anyone deserved a happily ever after it was Princess Rose. She deserved to be with the person she loved. Nevertheless, Tara was glad Dad and Donny were leaving her at home; she had no desire to go to that Ball.


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**xBakaTulipx****: thank you, no worries about fic, it has a life of its own (in the non-scary way)**

**Chapter Two**

Nearly a month after the ball Tara visited her mother's tree for the last time. She carried nothing but a bundle of food wrapped in one of her better blankets. The moonlight shone on the pale green curtain of branches, making it look as if the tree was weeping with Tara. Hence the name, she supposed. Gently, Tara slipped through the branches. It was pitch black under canopy but Tara crossed to the base of the tree by memory and knelt at the gnarled roots.

"Mama," Tara whispered. "I can't stay here anymore. I know you wanted us to be a family, but if you saw how they changed you'd understand. I-I-I'll m-miss you." Sorrow chocked her voice making it impossible for Tara to force out any more words. Still she stayed at the base of the tree, knowing she had to leave but finding it impossible. If she left now, while Father and Donny were away for the Baron's Fall Hunt, they wouldn't discover she had gone until she was well away from the village. She would be free of them.

A cultured masculine voice cleared its throat behind her. "Miss McClay?"

Tara screamed and attempted to spin around, losing her balance and falling into the embrace of the roots. A tall, clean cut figure was silhouetted against the moonlight, holding the branches back.

"Forgive me," he said, stepping inside the curtain. A faint glow rose up from the ground under illuminating the area under the tree. "I didn't mean to startle you." Tara gaped at him, amazement and fear written into her posture. He was dressed exclusively in a deep green and silver. A nobleman's sweeping cape was draped across his shoulders and he held an elaborate wooden staff inlayed with silver swirls and toped with what Tara assumed was a real emerald. He continued in a kindly tone, "I had forgotten all you'd been through, please believe that I mean you no harm. I am Giles, Fairy Godfather of Kingdom Enberg."

"Y-y-you're a F-fairy G-g-g-godfather?" Tara asked incredulously. "I-I-I, um, thought w-w-women…" She trailed off; horrified she might have offended this man.

Godfather Giles didn't seem offended though. He frowned, thoughtfully. "Normally you'd be correct, however the way the Tradition has been behaving in this kingdom I'm afraid that male godparents are the least of our concern.

"But that is another Tale, one that, I'm sure, will be told in due time. However, I am sure you are wondering why I am here, now. The primary responsibility of Fairy Godparents is to monitor and guide the Tradition, that's the force that propagates magic, and it is this that brings me to you tonight. You see Tara, whenever someone's life begins to resemble a tale──like the unappreciated third son, the arrogant prince, the princess with the overly protective father (or in Rose's case a neglectful father)──magic begins to gather around them, trying to force their lives down the path that their circumstances most closely resemble, the _Traditional_, if you will, path. The longer it takes for this to happen, the more magic is drawn to the person."

Tara's eyes widened incredulously. _Cinderella_. _She_ couldn't… wasn't supposed to be _Cinderella _was she? But it fit. The tension she had been feeling all her life, like she was being driven towards something, a storm building just around the corner.

Giles looked at her thoughtfully. "Yes," He answered her thoughts. "You have been over due for a Happily-Ever-After since you where sixteen. Unfortunately, my dear, while your father and brother are fully wicked enough to warrant just that sort of happy ending, the charming Princess Rose is not only a girl but already engaged to her Quester, with the wedding itself scheduled in two months time."

Tara nodded, pushing back a feeling of sorrow. "S-s-so w-what h-h-happens if th-the t-t-t-t-tale can't be c-completed?"

"The magic keeps gathering around the person until it gets to a level where a magic user notices. Then it _can_ get siphoned off, leaving the person ordinary. Nothing magical happens to them again, but at least they are able to live normal lives without being forced into an unachievable end. If the person's circumstances are truly dire the magician will usually help them, which also serves to break the Tradition and stop the magic from continuing to build up around them. Sometimes, the magic is taken in a less benign manner," Godfather Giles paused, removed a pair of thin wire spectacles from his nose, and began to clean them on a corner of his emerald cloak. "If that happens, Tara, they are generally left dead… which is more merciful really. Those that survive the experience, well, it's truly horrific.

"However, if the person has attracted not only a magician, but a magical guardian something else can happen. You see, Tara, someone has to become the Fairy Godparents, and the White Wizards, and Good Witches, and so forth. It has to be someone who has built up enough magic that they can learn to use that magic and how to gather more before that it is all used up. _That's_ why I couldn't help you before now. What I'm trying ask you… Tara I need an Apprentice and you would make a wonderful Fairy Godmother. I, I understand if it's not something─"

"Oh yes," Tara breathed, interrupting him.

"Are you sure?" Giles asked. "If you'd rather have a normal life I can remove the magic you've gathered and help you to a better position─ perhaps as a school teacher?" He offered uncertainly. "It's really quite dangerous."

Tara frowned slightly. "D-dangerous?" she questioned.

"The Tradition itself doesn't care if the story has a happy ending or not as long as it fits a traditional path. Some turn bitter and hateful from what the Tradition puts them through. They become the Evil Sorcerers and Wicked Witches. Godparenting is hard work and often it puts us in the opposition with those that follow the darker paths. Especially in Enberg; for some reason the Tradition has always been particularly over-active in this Kingdom."

Tara recalled all the tales she had heard about kingdoms being lost in darkness for generations. But…

"I w-w-would love to be your apprentice Godfather Giles," Tara said solemnly. Impulsively she hugged Giles.

"Yes well," he said awkwardly, touched. "Shall we go?"

"Go?" Tara asked.

"Home."

_Home_. Tara thought giddily. It felt like happiness was bubbling up inside her. Slowly she smiled. It started in one corner of her mouth, stretching into a wide lopsided grin. _Home_.

Giles stepped out of the whispering branches, holding them apart for Tara as one might hold a door for a Lady. Uncertainly she stepped through. Giles let the branches fall behind her, the glow under the tree dimming as the curtain closed. The glade outside the tree was empty. _Surely he didn't walk here._

Giles raised his staff into the air. At first it seemed as if nothing happened, then Tara noticed a faintly glowing bubble rise from the top of the staff. It drifted to the side, expanding as it moved until it was the size of a carriage.

"Not what I had in mind perhaps, but it will serve." He stepped inside the bubble and settled himself on an iridescent seat.

Hesitantly Tara moved to follow. As she touched the edge of the bubble, however, a loud crash sounded behind her. For the second time that night Tara jumped, unsuccessfully attempting to bite back a scream. The idea of evil mages was fresh in her mind.

"Good lord!" Giles exclaimed. He stepped out of the bubble a walked over to where several solid branches had fallen from the tree. The smallest was no more than a foot in length and the tallest longer than Tara, who had turned an ashy white. Giles knelt to examine them carefully, then began an equally through inspection of the tree trunk from which they had fallen. He ran a hand lightly over the bark that had already closed over.

"Remarkable," He said. "Tara I believe these branches are the tree's gift to you."

_The what?_ Her head was already spinning from everything that had already happened tonight.

Giles belatedly noticed her confusion. "A wand is a standard tool of magic users. Now they are not in and of themselves magic," He instructed sternly. "It is merely an extension of the magician, aiding them in focusing magic. A wand is **_not_** necessary to cast magic, it just makes it easier. Actually, any stick will do in a pinch but only wood that has been freely _given_ can be safely used, without fear that a Black Witch cause the wand to turn against its Godparent.

"Godparents generally have several 'wands.' Which you use will depend on your costume; the smaller wands are for everyday use and the larger staffs will go with your most impressive garb. The sort of thing you'd wear to a Royal Christening for example. In any event, I believe the tree has given you these branches in order for them to be fashioned into wands. Remarkable really."

Giles gathered the braches and placed them in Tara's arms. Placing a hand on the small of Tara's back, he guided the bewildered girl into the bubble.

"Thank you Mama," Tara whispered as they rose into the air, clutching the branches to her. They felt warm and alive in her arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**amy-the-rat: I'm glad you're amused :) the role fits our stuffy watcher so well too.**

**Chapter Three**

A soft touch lingered on Tara's wrist, imploring her to stay, but the purple ocean's roar faded into stillness. Her eyes fluttered open taking in the silver folds of the soft pillowcase that smelled vaguely of lavender. Tara sat up, not entirely sure she wasn't still dreaming; the sight of the room that greeted her was too fantastical to be real, let alone the events of last night. A Godfather coming to help _her_ and actually make her his apprentice was absurd enough to make her distrust her own senses. Then she winced as blood flowed into her right hand, which had been jammed under her pillow, causing an almost painful tingling.

A voice dragged Tara's gaze away of the splendor of the room, _her _room, which she had barely seen the night before in her weary haze. The appearance of the speaker did nothing to assure Tara that this entire experience wasn't some sort of elaborate dream. A woman, no taller than a child, stood in the doorway. Twin horns curved out of her curly blond hair and hooves instead of feet peaked out from under the hem of her dress.

"Hello! I said 'good morning,'" the woman said impatiently, when no reply was forthcoming. "It's customary to say 'good morning' back. I didn't learn manners so I could be ignored."

"S-s-sorry," Tara apologized, ducking her gaze.

"Apology accepted," the woman said.

Tara looked up, surprised at the lightning change of attitude. She'd expected the agitated woman to continue berating her, make fun of her stutter, but the blond whatever-she-was was now beaming at Tara expectantly.

"You can call me Anya ─that's not my True Name of course— and you are Miss Tara, Mister Giles new apprentice. I wish you happiness and joy in your new life style. Giles asked me to help you get ready. He's waiting in the dinning room."

Hurriedly Tara grabbed her dress, which she had laid out on a mossy green ottoman under her window.

"You're not planning on wearing _that_ are you?" Anya interrupted.

"I d-don't have anything e-else." Her old dress was hardly more than rags, but Tara hadn't had anyway of getting new clothing, she certainly couldn't have asked Father for it.

"There's everyday clothes in this drawer," Anya said walking over to the dresser that was carved to resemble a dragon and pulled open the middle scale. She lifted out a warm amber dress and teal over tunic with silver fastenings.

"B-b-but I c-c-couldn't," Tara protested feebly.

"Nonsense! You are a Fairy Godparent's apprentice and must dress accordingly. Besides, pretty gifts are an important part of friendship. I love gifts," Anya added pointedly –although for her that was probably subtle.

Giving up the argument, Tara slipped behind a changing screen and put on the outfit; it fit perfectly. The swirling hem fell just above her ankles and Tara gave an experimental twirl causing the fabric to billow around her as she stepped out from behind the screen. "Wow," Tara whispered.

"Very nice," Anya said. "You eyes are leaking! Please stop," she added distressed. She clapped Tara on the back with one tiny hand in a brotherly fashion.

Blinking eyes that had indeed become teary with joy Tara couldn't help but giggle.

Tara finished dressing quickly and followed Anya through the cluttered house to the dinning room as the later chattered cheerfully. Many of the items, which Tara tried not to stare at as they passed, where quite odd and not at all the sort of think Tara expected a Fairy Godfather to own. Running the length of one hall there was an entire shelf of shoes, ranging from delicate slippers of glass or rubies to a pair of tiny work boots.

Giles was indeed already sitting at breakfast with a blond woman and a tiny dark haired man who Tara assumed was the Brownie, Xander, that Anya had shared entirely too much information about. Her mouth dropped open when the teapot walked across the table to refill Giles' cup on its own.

Hearing her gasp, Giles turned with a smile. "Good morning Tara. Did you sleep well?" He asked, gesturing for her and Anya to sit.

"Very w-well M-mister Giles, S-s-sir." Tara slid into one of the chairs softly, and jumped as a plate, dish, and silverware dashed to place themselves in front of her. Tara took her queue from Anya who imperiously ordered a substantial breakfast into the empty air and watched the dishes jump to serve her. Hesitantly and feeling rather silly Tara timidly requested eggs and sweet bread with ginger tea.

The blond woman cleared her throat impatiently as the dishes rushed to serve Tara.

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry, Tara allow me to introduce you to Xander and Buffy the Dragon Slayer. Xander and Anya help me run things here. Buffy is an old friend and charge."

"I just came over to bring this to Giles," Buffy said, setting a small crystal bottle filled with an oily dark liquid on the table. "He didn't tell me it was for an apprentice. It's a pleasure to meet you Tara."

"Y-you too. I-i-it's, um, n-nice to m-meet you t-t-too," Tara stammered, blushing faintly at how stupid she sounded but offering Buffy a small lopsided smile. She eyed the bottle and bit her lip, unable to keep from asking. "W-what is that?"

"Dragon's blood," Buffy said cheerfully. It was as if she had no idea this was disgusting, especially to discuss over breakfast. "It will give you the ability to talk with animals, assuming you can stomach the taste."

_Stomach the ta--_ Tara's eyes opened wide in disbelief. "W-w-what!?"

"Being able to communicate with those most people cannot is very important. Most dragon blood elixirs are very dilute solutions that have a temporary effect; those given to princes for the duration of a Quest for example. _This_ vile is undiluted and will last your entire lifetime." Giles said as he picked up the vile and poured its contents into a glass flute. "No point in delaying." He handed it to Tara who accepted in reluctantly in order to stop it from shattering on the ground when Giles let go.

Tara looked at the glass fearfully and screwed up her courage. The thought of disobeying never really entered her mind. She took a deep breath and downed the contents. The stuff tasted as oily as it looked and burned in her mouth. Tara gagged, nearly spitting it back up but managing to keep her lips pressed tight. Someone pressed another glass in her hand.

"Here drink this to chase it. It'll help, I promise," Xander said.

Tara lifted the second glass it her lips and sipped its contents. A rich berry taste rolled over her mouth and down her throat, soothing the burnt passage way.

"Thanks," Tara gasped.

"No problemo," Xander said cheerfully. He then spoiled the effect by yawning. "Sorry, I'm not much of a morning person. If I don't see the sun before noon it's a good day."

In spite of herself Tara giggled and relaxed; the young brownie's friendliness was completely disarming. The rest of breakfast pasted quickly and pleasantly. To Tara's surprise she was disappointed when the dishes cleared themselves away and Buffy had to depart.


	4. Chapter 4

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**Spirtznar: Thank you, I love writing Anya. I think she and Willow are my favorites just because they both can do and/or say some pretty funny things so I get to play.**

**Everyone, just a note, but I actually have been updating this fic a little more frequently than I intended. However, with exams almost upon me I suspect I won't have a chance to write until the semester is over. I don't expect to have another update until next month. Sorry.**

**Happy Holidays to ya'll for whichever of the many happening in this season you celebrate!! **

**Chapter Four**

T he next couple of days passed quickly for Tara as Giles instructed her in theory behind the use and manipulation of the Tradition, aka magic, and began tutoring her on its history within the Five Hundred Kingdoms. Tara found the diaries of Godmother Elena which Giles had given her to study from very interesting; and not only because Elena had once been destined to fulfill the same Tale that Tara herself was rescued from. Elena had also risen to be once of the most respected godmothers in all the history of the five-hundred kingdoms, making a career of not only very skillfully manipulating the Tradition but actually breaking it to forge new Traditions (and it took a very grand story indeed to make a new Traditional Tale). Her courage and skill, as well as her accomplishments, were inspirational to Tara. Rather than be a passive guide, Godmother Elena had acted to ensure that none of the more tragic Traditional paths ever came to pass in the Kingdoms under her care.

Using the pad of her finger Tara traced the flowing script of the auburn ink that depicted a conversation Elena had had with her own instructor, Godmother Bella, on the thick ocher page of the journal. "…It was only after I had transferred Rosalie's magic to myself that Madame Bella told me why Rosalie had been so desperate to give up her power. It seemed the Tradition was attempting to make her unborn child a Ladderlock. Which is, of course, why Madame Bella had warned Rosalie to come directly to _her_ if she developed any unusual cravings. In the Ladderlock's Tale the mother of a Ladderlocks would be overcome with a craving for some out of season food to the point where she could eat that, and only that. Naturally the only place her husband could find the food in question would be in the garden of a Black Witch or Evil Sorceress, who had been lured in by the building Tradition for that exact purpose. He would be caught attempting to steal it and be forced to pledge his unborn child to the Witch. After the girl's birth the Witch would take her, lock her in a tower, and forbid her to cut her hair. Afterward the ending varies; some girls do live Happily Ever After with their Quester but others go mad from being locked in a small room for sixteen years. Madame knew of one who hung herself with her own hair. Also, there are the numerous Questers that fail and are killed by the Witch or fall onto briars surrounding the castle. Not the sort of future any mother would want for her daughter.

And all this after the Tradition had attempted to make Rosalie herself a Fair Rosalinda! Now there is a case where the Tradition takes a truly tragic turn; a young girl seduced by her King and then murdered by the Queen when Her Majesty finds out about it. The magic in that tale only enters after the poor girl's death, when the instrument made by a wandering minstrel from the reeds over her unmarked watery grave is played for the King. And, of course, that instrument has but one song: 'the Queen hath murdered me.' Ladderlocks is not quite as tragic as all that, but still a tale best prevented. With the magic drained, Rosalie and her family should be able to live a normal life.

What was most surprising out of all of this was the anger I felt at the Tradition, this faceless, formless _thing_ which pushes and pulls people about with no regard for what they want or need. True, it's all well and good when the tale does have a happy ending; and quite often the Tradition is a great benefit to the 500 Kingdoms, working to keep a Kingdom happy, even down to making the weather always pleasant, _but only if it suits the tale_! Perhaps seeing this anger in my face Madame Bella said the most peculiar thing: 'Yes,' she said. 'I had hoped you would feel that, I hoped when I took you as my apprentice, that you would be cut from the same cloth as me. Some Godmothers are only willing to _assist_ in the makings of happy ending. _I_ am of a different mind.' To which I vowed then and will write here: There will be no Fair Rosalindas in _my_ Kingdoms. All Madame Bella said to this was 'Good.' but then, what more needs to be said?"

Looking up from the journal, Tara stared at the dappled sunlight in fluttering oak leaves outside her window. "There will be no Fair Rosalindas in my kingdoms either," she said softly as she shut the book. Tara's skin prickled as if there was a faint tingle of energy in the air as she spoke. A knock on the door interrupted her musings. "Yes?" She called, rubbing her arms. "P-please come in."

Giles opened the door gently and stepped inside her room. He was dressed far more practically than he had been the night they'd met, looking more ordinary and less like a Godfather. "Good afternoon Tara, how are your studies going?" he inquired politely.

"W-well, thank you," Tara replied, blushing nervously. "It's all quite f-fascinating."

Giles smiled. "You have been making excellent progress. I believe you are ready to begin actually using what you have learned. However the ability to perceive magic, and it will be much easier to use your magic if you can do so, is not an ability humans can gain on their own; although Sorcerers and Sorceresses are born with this talent. So, if you would care to accompany me, I believe its time I introduced you to the local Fairy King and Queen."

Tara swallowed nervously; from her reading she knew that the Fairies had final say on who was fit to be an apprentice Godparent and who was not. Originally all the Godparents were actually Fairies but now it was rare to encounter a Fairy Godparent who was one of the Greater Fae.

"You think I'm r-ready for that?" she questioned, brush her hair back behind her ear.

Giles leaned against the door frame, the chain of his gold pocket watch clinking slightly with his movement. "My dear," he said seriously. "You are one of the most worthy apprentices I have seen in quite some time. The only thing you lack is faith in yourself."

Blood rose in Tara's cheeks and she dropped her head, causing her hair to fall forward in a honey curtain about her face. She couldn't deny that she felt uneasy in her new role as a Fairy Godparent apprentice. Despite Mister Giles' assurances it was difficult to believe that the Fairy King and Queen would find her acceptable when there was likely to be far more suitable candidates.

"Tara," Giles said gently. "You have nothing to fear. Please, trust me."

Tara took a deep breath, nodding her head reluctantly in acceptance. She carefully placed the journal she had been perusing on the carved oak desk and rose to her feet. Unconsciously she smoothed her skirt before bringing both hands to rest in a protective clasp over her stomach. "O-o-okay, I'm ready."

Giles smiled and gallantly offered her his arm in a show of support. She took his elbow gratefully, hoping she didn't embarrass herself too badly by fainting. Xander and Anya where standing by the front door; Xander trying to look as if he wasn't waiting for them and Anya staring pointedly.

"We wanted to wish you well," Anya said before Xander could say anything. "Not that you will need it."

"Y-you're not coming?" Tara asked, surprised. She had thought that Xander and Anya would want to see the other Fairies.

"We're not the same sort of Fae as they are," Xander explained. "We've been hanging around humans too much and never really had much magic to begin with. What would take you or I years of study and involved spells they can do with a touch."

"Speak for yourself, I'm a Satyr," Anya sniffed. "I used to cause havoc and ruin with the best of them before I met you." Tara made a mental note to look up Satyr's in her books. It wasn't that she didn't like or trust Anya, quite the opposite in fact, but it might help her to understand the unpredictable Fairy better.

"Thank you both," Giles said. "But I'm afraid we must be off."

"We'll mind the shop, no worries," Anya said. "We are very reliable."

Tara lagged slightly behind Giles as he led them out of the yard and down what looked like a deer path. The light lessened immediately when they stepped under the ancient, tall trees. As they went farther it seemed to grow brighter but the leafy cover overhead didn't lessen any. Tara glanced around, perplexed, and was surprised to notice that the moss seemed to be glowing. She bent to get a closer look and saw that not only was the moss emanating a dim lime-green light, but little tiny balls of yellow light hovered among the frills. A whispering rustle moved through the trees sounding like very slowly spoken words. She concentrated, trying to make out what they were saying.

"Tara!" Giles exclaimed, having turned back to see that his apprentice was no longer behind him. "Do try to keep up; you really mustn't let them distract you like that, it only encourages them."

Tara straightened, blushing brightly, and resolutely ignored her surrounds which grew increasingly more fantastical as they continued. It may have been her imagination, but she thought she heard the wood sigh in something like disappointment.

Giles stopped as they entered a circle of stones. Tara tried to distract herself, unwilling to be misled again, but soon she didn't have to worry about staring at the Fae's forest for the Fairies themselves started to appear. She wasn't sure when they arrived; at first she didn't even notice them but they grew clearer as their forms taking shape slowly as if they where growing out of nature rather than walking through it.

Some of them looked nearly human except for their somewhat elongated features, although a few of these had used magic to attached delicate butterfly like wings to their backs in mockery of some of the more ludicrous tales. Others, however, were so fantastical that even the tales would have blushed to describe them; long reptilian or horse like bodies merged with human features. There was even a small group of creatures that looked like Anya. The only male in the group seemed to notice Tara's gaze upon him and winked.

Slightly apart from all of these stood the most perfect woman Tara had ever seen, so beautiful that she was almost painful to look at. Beside her stood an equally gorgeous man, although he was so slender and delicate that Tara was hesitant to call him hansom. These two could only be the Fairy King and Queen.

Giles bowed formally and the regal pair inclined their heads.

"Godfather Rupert Giles," the queen acknowledged, her rich voice as soothing and refreshing as spring rain.

"Your Majesties. Allow me to present my apprentice, Tara Maclay."

Tara sunk carefully into a curtsy.

"Have you instructed her on her tasks?" the Queen questioned, this time her voice carried the hint of rumbling thunder.

"No, Majesty, I left that to you, as is Tradition."

The Queen smiled, and Tara felt the weight of her gaze as the Queen's attention shifted to from Mister Giles to her. Suddenly the world shifted and Tara saw the images of black dragons and evil witches, of smoking ruins and death, of a baby crying, and then an oddly tantalizing glance of red hair, all flashing by too quickly for her to do more than get a glimpse. And behind it all was the force of the Tradition, moving and manipulating, restoring and destroying without check. _I won't let it!_ Tara thought. _I won't let it push me or anyone else around anymore!_ Just as suddenly, the images stopped and Tara found herself back Fae glade.

"She'll do," the Fairy Queen said, her voice radiating both amusement and approval. "She'll do very nicely indeed."

She stepped forward and handed Tara a multicolored berry that felt both hot and cold, heavy and light. Looking at Giles for approval, Tara slowly put the berry in her mouth and chewed. A peculiar wash of flavors spread over her tongue and down her throat as she swallowed. Before she had time to wonder what would happen next, sound swelled out of the quiet forest. Riding over this deep melody was the trill of flutes and deep brass of hunting horns. And over shadowing them all was the thunderous sound of a storm and an ocean which emanated ethereally from the Queen and King. Tara cried out and clapped her hands over her ears. She took one deep breath than another as her body adjusted to what it was hearing. When the sounds were still loud, but no longer deafening, Tara slowly lowered her hands. She meet Giles' concerned gaze and nodded assurance that she was alright.

The Queen stepped back and the noise of the new melodies rose as the Fae prepared to depart.

Gracefully the King raised his hand, palm out, and the other Fae stilled, the sound dropping noticeably. He stepped forward and stared at Tara. His lips curled upwards in a secretive smile and the King of the Fairies raised a hand, touching one finger lightly to her forehead. Tara blinked, her mouth going dry, as he bowed before stepping back to catch the Queen's hand. The pair of them vanished in a crescendo of crashing water. In the blink of an eye the other Fae followed, leaving Tara dumb at the sound of their exit. She turned to Giles. "W-what just h-h-happened?" She asked, bewildered.

"I'll admit that was a some what unusual meeting," he said mildly. "I'd say you impressed them. Oh, I had no doubt they'd accept you, but for you to gain the King's blessing as well as the Queen's… well, lets just say its quite an accomplishment, few can claim the same." Giles smiled fondly at her. "So, Apprentice, judging from your reaction I presume that you are now perceiving magic as if it were music?"

Tara nodded. "Is that unusual?" She questioned as they started to head back for the cottage. "Godmother Elena wrote about s-seeing magic."

"It not common, but it's not uncommon either. I, myself, hear magic but some magicians even smell or taste it. The truth is it doesn't matter how you perceive magic as long as you can. And remember Tara," Giles said firmly. "Whatever you see, you can use… or fight as the case may be."

"Is there a way to maybe, um," Tara blushed faintly. "T-tone it down a little? They were, um, kinda l-l-loud."

"As your body adjusts to this new perception its sensitivity will lessen. However, metal discipline will allow you to gain more control, letting you selectively lessen to the magic around you. I suggest you practice this on your own by focusing on the different melodies of things around the house. Personally I find the lute like song of the dishes to be quite soothing, although be careful if you decide to focus on them; the magic swords are in the next room, bloody raucous things. However, you've done more than enough for now, perhaps you would enjoy going into town with Anya tomorrow while she 'acquires' things?"

Tara slowly considered the idea as they emerged from the forest into Xander's neat little garden. She had only been into town once, with Giles when he had needed to deliver medicinal potions in his guise as the local warlock (Along with her godmothering lessons, Giles had began instructing Tara on the basics of witchcraft, noting that godparents often disguised themselves as lesser magic users in order to escape notice. On the whole Tara found these lesson's easier as they simply involved using the natural magic of plants and such rather than imposing upon the Tradition directly.) and the town people had treated Tara with a curious mix of wary respect and friendliness. "I th-think I'd like that," Tara said decisively as they traversed the strings of yarn which separated the rows of peas, barely beginning to sprout.

"Excellent, I- Ah, Anya! Just the person I was hoping to see," Giles broke off as Anya left the house with Xander in tow. She ignored him and stared at Tara.

"Wowzer!" Xander exclaimed, also staring. "Woo and Hoo Tara, way to go!"

Anya nodded sagely. "Getting the King's blessing as well as the Queen's, very well done."

Tara started in surprise. "You can t-tell?"

Anya snorted. "Of course we can tell! You're lit up like a solstice tree. Anyone who can sense anything about magic could see that!"

"Oh," Tara said faintly, biting her lip. She wasn't sure she liked the fact that she had just become a magical beacon.

"Don't worry," Giles reassured. "It will fade by morning until only very close scrutiny would reveal the Fairies' marks. And now, if the excitement is over, I think dinner is in order."

Xander slid up to Tara as walked towards the cottage. "I bet you he'd have said 'Good lord!' and started polishing his glasses if he hadn't been there to see you gifted," the Brownie whispered conspiratorly.


	5. Chapter 5

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**Everyone: thank you for being patient and happy 2007.**

**Spritznar: Oh yes, soonish.  
**

**Chapter Five**

That morning Tara woke some what grumpily, with an irritating sense that there was something familiar about the slender person wading in her dream's purple ocean. However, the prospect of relaxing for the day and going into town combined with the pleasurable scent of breakfast to banish both her bad mood and the hazy dream. Humming softly to herself along with the bubbly melody of the cottage's domestic magics, Tara made herself presentable. Still humming she ambled down to breakfast.

"Ah, so _that's_ the reason the dishes are behaving particularly well this morning," Giles said, looking up as Tara entered.

"Huh?" Tara questioned.

"You were humming along with them weren't you?" Giles asked knowingly.

"Oh," Tara said, her eyes widening before she dropped her head, letting her hair fall forward to obscure her blush. "S-s-sorry," she whispered softly.

"It's quite alright," Giles said firmly. "No harm done, a bit of good actually. It's just a good opportunity to remind you that you need to be careful with your singing now; you don't want to accidentally cast any spells."

Still mortified, Tara nodded, and sat quietly at the table. She kept her head down, missing Giles' worried frown.

"Hey Tara," Xander said, breaking the awkward silence. "I finished your wands. Wanna see?"

"S-s-sure," Tara said, finally raising her head and pushing back her hair.

Xander left the room and returned quickly, laying several polished lengths of vanished white wood on the table. The smallest wand was really just a tapered stick with a fancy willow leaf pattern. The next several had a five pronged star at the end. The largest of the bunch was a thick staff that would clearly rise a good six inches above Tara's head and was topped with a large amber set in gold. Tara reached out a hand to finger the warm wood and gasped in surprise when she heard the soft echo of her mother's voice among the deep melody of the wood. She felt her eyes water and hot tears spilled from the lids to run down her cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered, choked.

Giles patted her hand from across the table, clearly knowing what she was hearing while Anya comfortingly rubbed small circles on her back.

"She loved you very much," Giles said softly.

Tara nodded and smiled tremulously, using her sleeve to dry her eyes.

The rest of breakfast was a quite affair as the other three members of their little household let Tara regain her composure.

After breakfast Xander collected the wands, telling Tara he would put them in her cedar chest leaving her with only the smallest, which fit neatly into a little loop on her belt. Overburdened, he bent awkwardly to kiss Anya's cheek and admonished her to buy something nice for herself, from him, while she was in town before trotting off toward Tara's room. Apparently Anya not only liked pretty gifts but expected them, at least from her husband.

The ride into town passed in companionable silence as Tara gazed absently at the fields and wild gazing pastures. She leaned back on the wooden seat of their donkey towed cart and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the mindless twitters of the wild birds as they chirp about earthworms and nests and shouted insults at the circling crows.

The town itself was very similar to where Tara had grown up except that the streets where packed dirt rather than cobblestone. People glanced at them briefly when they rolled past but returned to work, used to the sight of the tiny horned woman. Anya expertly maneuvered the cart along the streets and parked the cart near a group of shops. She tied the donkey to a hitching post and made sure his grain bag had a decent supply of food in it before turning to Tara. "Let's go," Anya said, rubbing her hands together.

"Is it s-safe to leave him there unattended?" Tara asked. Dad had always made her stay with the cart when they went into town to guard against the more 'unsavory' folk.

"Would you mess with even a minor magic user's cart?" Anya asked wryly.

Tara blushed bashfully and mutely shook her head. She followed Anya quietly as the woman set off at a brisk trot towards the bakery. The light dust of flour in the air made Tara sneeze when they entered the shop, but it didn't stop her from continuing to breath in deeply, enjoying the sent of baking. The thin bald man behind the counter grimaced good naturedly when he saw Anya.

"Good morn Mistress, come t' ruin me again have ye?" He asked in a think, rolling brogue. "I'll not have coin enough to keep me children fed if ye keep bargaining so harshly. Surely ye wouldst not subject such a fair maid," he nodded to Tara, who blushed and ducked her head. "t' such a cruel sight."

Anya snorted softly and mustered her rebuttal, but Tara was distracted from their haggling by a strand of a cheerful melody that drifted in through the door. She strained, trying to hear more of the beautiful song. Shaking her head in frustration, she turned to Anya. "I'm gonna go, um, check s-something out," Tara interrupted. "Can I m-meet you back at the cart l-later?"

"Sure," Anya said, waving vaguely. "Have fun."

"A moment lass," the baker said. He grabbed small cloth bag and shoved two sweet rolls in it. Folding down the top he handed it to Tara. "As a welcome t' the town," he said, raising a hand to forestall any protests.

"Th-th-thanks," Tara mumbled, blushing brightly. She took the bag clumsily, her arm not quite prepared for its slight weight, and backed out of the store, almost tripping on the raised doorway.

She stood out side the bakery and looked down at the cloth bag in puzzlement before shaking her head. She could hear the song clearer out here and she cautiously followed it, her boots clicking in counterpoint on the cobble lane.


	6. Chapter 6

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**Spritznar: Don't hang up the tights and mask yet ;)**

**Notes about this chapter: This was so much fun to write, however, Microsoft Word somehow decided it needed to show the first seven words (look at them, I was shocked) of this chapter in a little balloon every time I scrolled in either direction. I think my computer is possessed. **

**Chapter Six**

Tara bit her lip when she came to a post-rail fence that was obviously meant to mark the town's boundary. The song clearly wafted from somewhere in the field on other side of the fence. Taking a deep breath, Tara swung a leg over the lower rail. Glancing around nervously, she ducked under the upper rail and swung her remaining foot over to stand firmly on the other side of the fence. She looked back over her shoulder at the town before wading into the golden wheat field. She had only gone a few paces when she noticed a depression ahead. Smiling subconsciously, Tara stepped forward and froze. Reclining in the field, her eyes closed, was a beautiful woman with a thin, angular face that reminded Tara of the Fairy Queen. A lock of purple-black hair had escaped from the thick scarf that wrapped the rest of her hair, and fluttered defiantly in the breeze. Tara could see no sign of an instrument and realized that the song must be the girl's magic. "H-h-hello," Tara ventured shyly. The girl's eyes snapped open and she sat up as though stung. "Hi! I'm so sorry, I bet your wondering why I am sleeping in your field, because, y'know, strangers just sleeping in your field is just, well, rude. And I'm really sorry, it just looked so comfy, and it's such a nice day. And I'm sure you want me to be leaving now so…" "Oh, no! I-i-its not… um, I d-d-don't," Tara stumbled. "I was just w-w-walking and I heard you and, um, came to see…. S-stay? Please." The girl started to smile, then her forehead crinkled adorably and she looked up at Tara. "You heard me?" she questioned. "Oh, um, well, I kinda hear magic? You know, l-like it's music?" Tara blushed and stared at the pebbly dirt in front of her boots. "Wow," The girl drew the word out. "You hear magic? That's really cool, I mean I could tell you had power what with the blue sparklys dancing around you and all but it's so neat that you can hear it. I just see colors and stuff. What do I sound like?" Her green eyes opened wide with curiosity. "It's, um, h-happy? A-and bubbly. I feel l-like I could hum it for days, it's very p-pretty." The girl blushed, causing Tara to blush and stumble over her next word even worse than she normally did. "Y-y-y," Tara took a deep breath to calm herself down and forced the rest of her sentence out, trying not to think about how stupid she sounded. Somehow she didn't feel so foolish with the caring green gaze focused on her. "Y-you have a lot of p-power, I, um, I could h-hear you from the town." 

"Oh, no. I'm not… I don't have much in the way of power; I'm definitely nothing special…." The girl said, blurting out a denial.

Tara locked her sapphire eyes with the girl's emerald ones, shocked to realize that she was serious. How could the most beautiful person Tara had ever seen think so disparagingly of herself? "No," Tara cut the girl off. "You are."

Trapped in the intensity of their gaze, Tara smiled bashfully and pushed her blond hair back behind her ears, unable to tear her eyes away from the slow, pleased smile that spread across the other woman's lips.

"I'm R- uh, Willow. Willow is me." Willow said, extending a slim hand.

Tara's own hand gravitated towards Willow. The smoothness of Willow's hand shocked Tara. "T-tara," she said, introducing herself almost absently as most of her focus lay on the feel of their joined hands. It was only when Willow invitingly patted the ground beside her with her other hand that Tara realized that she had yet to release the other girl.

"Sit?" Willow requested.

"S-sure," Tara said, slowly dropping Willow's hand before sinking awkwardly into a cross-legged position beside her.

"So…" Willow said.

"So?" Tara asked. Their eyes met bashfully. Willow erupted into nervous giggles which Tara joined, her slightly deeper laughter ringing out under Willow's jingling laugh.

"Look," Willow said, pulling Tara backward and pointing up at the sky.

Tara let out an 'oof' as her back hit the ground. From this perspective the world was a deep blue sky with slowly moving clouds, framed by tall shafts of golden wheat swaying in the breeze. She followed the pale arc of Willow's extended arm to a fluffy white cloud.

"It looks kinda like a rowboat," Willow continued, reclining beside Tara.

Tara squinted at the oblong cloud.

"Or a snake, or a potato, or a whale, or anything that's kinda, well, long and round," Willow added.

"I-I think it's a boat," Tara said, turning to gaze at Willow's profile. She sucked in a deep breath as her eyes trailed along Willow's sculpted jaw, lingering on her glistening lips before continuing to trace the curve of Willow's nose to her oddly colored hair.

"Really?" Willow asked, rotating her head to look at Tara. Their eyes met and Tara found herself suddenly hyper aware of how close they where lying. Their faces were only inches apart and her entire right side tingled with proximity to Willow.

"Yeah," She finally croaked, though dry lips.

Willow smiled blindingly and squeezed Tara's hand. Mesmerized, Tara found herself staring; Willow looked so beautiful and happy.

"Ooh, what about that one?" Willow asked, looking back up at the sky. "It reminds me of a hunting hound."

Blushing Tara looked back up at the sky and tried to slow her pounding heartbeat. What was happening to her? "I don't know," She mused. Her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated the cloud. "The arch of the n-neck," Tara illustrated by reaching up a hand and waving it vaguely. "Is a little too long, don't you think? Maybe a horse?"

"No!" Willow exclaimed. "Nooo no no no no. Definitely not a horse."

"You don't like horses?" Tara asked, turning to look at Willow. The color looked like it had actually been sucked out of her face.

"Bad birthday pony experience; I look at horses and I see big ponies," Willow explained shortly, looking embarrassed. "It's a long story."

Tara reached out and tentatively touched Willow's shoulder in reassurance. "You can talk about it if you want," Tara offered.

"No, it's nothing," Willow said waving her hand. "It's stupid." Disappointed, Tara dropped her eyes. Looking at the wheat, she was unaware of Willow studying her and was surprised when Willow started to speak again. "My Parents got me this pony from my fifth birthday." She elaborated sheepishly. "It had ribbons in its tail and it was that gold and white color, a palomino, and it looked so pretty; but that just goes to show that looks are deceiving because that, that _creature_ was pure evil. It's like fire that you want to touch but shouldn't or those poisonous berries that look so yummy but really, um…. Sorry. Anyway, I was really excited -about the pony, not fire or the berries- and they didn't tell me how big it was or about the teeth or the arm eating tendencies did they? Oh no! They just handed me an apple and said 'oh here, go give the cute pony a treat' Ha! So yeah. Stupid right?"

"I don't think you're stupid Willow," Tara said gently. "It's a very legitimate fear."

"See, now you're humoring me," Willow said, starting to smile.

"Am not," Tara replied, also starting to smile. "Well, maybe a little," she allowed. "I've always wanted to learn to ride…."

"Why didn't you?"

"Oh, well, m-my f-f-family… w-we… they um," Tara said uncomfortably.

"Oh," Willow said, dropping her eyes away from Tara. "Sorry."

"No, its okay," Tara said hastily. "I just d-don't like to talk about them. They w-were kinda, um, mean. I just…"

"It's cool," Willow interrupted. "I get it."

"You d-do?" Tara asked, pushing her hair back again.

"Yeah."

They shared another slow smile.

"You wanna try doing that one?" Willow asked, pointing her arm backwards, behind the tops of their head.

Tara tilted her head back, scrunching her neck, to see the cloud at an awkward angle. The cloud was slim and squiggly with a head-like blob on top. She looked over at Willow, who was watching at her expectantly. Tara bit her lip and smiled mischievously. "The Fairy Queen."

"Good call," Willow said warmly. "Although, I've always imagined the Fairy Queen to be less skinny and more, well," Willow blushed. "Curvy."

"Imagined?" Tara questioned.

"Yeah," Willow said slowly, the cute little furrow reappearing in her brow as her forehead crinkled in puzzlement.

"You," Tara asked hesitantly, sitting up to look down at Willow. "You've never met her?"

"No, should I have?" Willow asked, levering herself up. "Did you? Meet her I mean."

"But how are you able to see magic?" Tara blurted, ignoring Willow's question.

"I always could," Willow replied, guilelessly. "Why?" She asked suddenly alarmed. "Is that bad? It's bad isn't it? I mean seeing things that aren't really there-"

"No, Willow," Tara interrupted. "It's good. I-i-it's b-better. Er, better than good," she finished lamely.

"Good?" Willow asked, her eyes still wide.

"Good," Tara affirmed. "I just was surprised, I've never met a S-sorceress before," She added bashfully.

"Huh?" Willow asked.

"Only Sorcerers and Sorceress can sense magic on their own," Tara elaborated. "Mister Giles says that that's why they are so rare. Otherwise you have to go to the Fairy court and be judged."

"Giles? _Godfather_ Giles?" Willow questioned, paling.

"Yeah. H-he's, he's been really great teaching me." Tara paused, unsure of herself. "You should m-meet him, he c-could-"

"No! Please, Tara, he can't know about me," Willow exclaimed. She gripped both of Tara's hands with her own. "Promise you won't tell," She begged, gazing intently into Tara's eyes.

"O-o-okay," Tara stuttered, worried and concerned for Willow. "I p-promise."

Willow let out the breath she'd been holding. "Thank you," she whispered, gripping Tara's hands tighter before letting go. "I should go," Willow said, climbing to her feet.

"O-okay," Tara said miserably, looking sadly up at Willow. _She can't go; I can't never see her again._ Tara shouldn't have asked, her questions had upset Willow; like they had upset her father. He was right, she was bad, always asking things she shouldn't.

"I," Willow said, glancing at the horizon and back down to Tara, surprising the blond. "I want to get together with you again. Could you meet me here? In a week? I know it's all random, meeting in some stranger's field but I-"

"Yes," Tara said, feeling as if her heart was beating in her throat, her earlier panic forgotten.

"Yes?" Willow asked, the nervousness finally easing from her eyes.

"Oh yes," Tara said whole heartedly, the words slipping from her with a sigh.

A beautiful smile blossomed on Willow faces as she gazed down at Tara. "Well, I should," she said after a moment, gesturing in the direction of the road.

"Yeah," Tara breathed.

"Bye," Willow said weakly, waving awkwardly before for turning to walk away. She glanced back as her dark form mingled with the saffron wheat, their eyes meeting as Willow vanished.

"Bye," Tara murmured after her. She flopped backwards and stared up at the sky, a giddy laugh bubbling up from her lips. She wasn't bad, Willow wanted to see her again. _Willow wants to see me again!_


	7. Chapter 7

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**Spritznar: **;) . Sorry about the vague reference with the classes of magic users. I had Giles go through a bunch of stuff very quickly because I didn't want to spend too much time with it in the fic, since it would delay the Willow-Tara goodness even more. So you don't have to hunt for the information: Basically there are three types of humans who can use magic.

1) Witches and wizards: they can use the natural tradition gathered in plants and through certain ritualistic acts. Almost every village has a local witch or wizard to help with day to day problems.

2) Faerie Godparents: they can gather and manipulate the tradition directly without going through some third medium, however they must be given this ability by the Faerie Court, although the first godparents were faeries, hence the name. Godparents have responsibility for a kingdom, or kingdoms, and chaperon whatever Tales are currently unfolding.

3) Sorcerers and Sorceresses: Humans who are born with the ability to manipulate the Tradition, like godparents except much, much more powerful. They often live in remote areas, researching and whatnot, only truly getting involved if a kingdom is about to fall to hordes of darkness, or something, they are the last line of defense, the big guns, ect.

4) Champions: Sorry, I forgot about them. They are individuals like Buffy who are not exactly magic users but can act as a channel for the tradition in desperate situations. For example, any hero can use a magic dagger to cut through iron shackles, but in a champion's hand _any_ dagger _becomes_ magic if there is an immediate threat present. They have heightened senses as well, but probably not as good as cannon Buffy's.

**Chapter Seven**

"D id you enjoy your day Tara?" Giles asked after dinner.

"She was gone for hours, I think she met some hottie," Anya loudly whispered. "I looked all over town for her; I was very concerned."

Blushing, Tara decided it was safe to ignore Anya's comment and answered Gile's question as best she could without mentioning Willow. "I w-was watching c-clouds, you know, s-seeing shapes in them? I, um, w-wanted to think."

"Yes, well, that's quite understandable; you've had an eventful week. In fact, it might be a good idea if we all turn in early tonight."

"Sounds like a plan," Xander said, not so subtly looking at Anya.

"M-mister Giles?" Tara asked hesitantly as they stood.

"Yes Tara?"

"I j-just, um, I wanted to thank y-you. F-for everything."

Giles looked up, his blue eyes misting suspiciously behind his glasses. "It's been my honor Tara."

"W-well, goodnight," Tara said. As she walked back to her room her thoughts immediately returned to Willow's smile, the way her eyes got wide as she babbled, the little hand gestures she used when she talked….

With a start, Tara realized that she had already reached her room and had been sitting on her bed staring off into space. _Willow_. Tara thought wistfully. "This is getting ridiculous," she murmured aloud, giving her head a small shake. She'd been in a daze ever since Willow left; even when she was conversing with other people, her attention kept drifting back to the girl. It was like she had a crush on Willow... _Which is ridiculous. Tara_, she told herself sternly. Willow was a girl and Tara had hoped that she had only lo- _liked_ -liked Princess Rose because of the Tradition. That it didn't mean anything; it was just the magic trying to force her to become a Cinderella. But Willow wasn't Princesses Rose, or a prince, she was just Willow. Beautiful, perfect Willow. So this, what she was feeling now, couldn't be the Tradition. _Is this me?_ Tara questioned. _I've never been interested in any boys, but do I **really** like girls like that?_ Oddly enough the idea didn't particularly bother her. She had years to realize that she lo- liked Princess Rose. Tara had only assumed that it was a fluke due to the magic after learning about the Tradition, so being attracted to other women was really nothing new to her. _Beside, it's Willow,_ Her mind supplied dreamily. _But how am I going to tell Mister Giles? That's assuming she even likes me, which she doesn't, couldn't, right? _In the end it probably wouldn't matter, Tara reminded herself, Godparents rarely took lovers, it was too dangerous. After all there were only five traditional paths for the lover of a godparent, and four of them ended tragically; for the godparent's kingdoms as well as for the couple.

Feeling suddenly depressed by the loss of something she would never have anyway, Tara snagged the leather bound book on Fairies from her nightstand and lay down on her side, squirming under the blankets. With the sheets comfortingly pulled up to her nose Tara opened the back of the book and thumbed through the index, determined not to think about Willow.

"Re'me, Regulas, Salamander, Satyr," Tara murmured aloud as she scanned down the column. Her eyes followed the doted line over to the page number and she quickly flipped to that section. Halfway down the page an ornate 'S' wound around the illustration of a man with equine legs. "Satyr," Tara read. "Often confused with Fawns. Unlike their gentler kin, Satyrs are a roguish but faint-hearted folk; subversive and dangerous, yet shy and cowardly. They have a playful, lusty, some what rude nature and love to play pranks on humans. They enjoy music, dancing, and wine, and can be extremely sexually promiscuous. Conversely they can also be helpful domestic sprites much like the brownies. Satyrs have been known to clean houses and such in exchange for some type of bribe and are incredibly protective of children.

"Physically Satyrs have a goat's hooves, legs, and horns and a human's upper body and face. There is a lesser known sub species of Satyrs that have the ears and front two legs of a horse (not these are not to be confused with centaurs as they are bi-pedal)."

Catching herself yawning on the last word, Tara decided that Giles had been right and it was time to call it a night. She made it through her nighttime rituals and slipped into sleep without once thinking of Willow. Her subconscious, however, had apparently decided to cheat.

In the wonderful way of dreams Tara did not question why the sand and water were purple, she merely admired how pretty the deep royal purple waves looked as they crashed onto the amethyst sand. She grinned and wiggled her toes, enjoying the sensuous feel of the sand around her feet and soothing water rushing over her toes.

"Hey Tara!" a voice called from behind her, making her heart jump and a delighted look appear on her face.

"Willow," Tara said, turning to look at the girl approaching her, stopping just short of the water.

"Come here," Willow implored, pouting. She held out her hand to Tara.

Captivated by Willows full, protruding lower lip, Tara waded out of the breakers and slid her hand into Willow's, intertwining their fingers.

Willow rubbed small circles on the back of Tara's hand with her thumb causing Tara to tremble. "I can't believe it's you," she whispered, using their joined hands to tug Tara closer. "It's been driving me crazy trying to figure out who I've been dreaming about. I made a color coded chart of all the women I knew and everything. I even questioned Lord Andrew about dreams."

Tara giggled. "It's been driving me crazy too," she replied not bothering to wonder who Lord Andrew was. She leaning closer as she spoke so their breath mingled. The move would have been uncharacteristically bold of her, but given that this was a dream, her own personal fantasy, there was no reason to hold back or doubt herself.

"Umhumm," Willow said. Her eyes seemed to bore into Tara's, before she glanced down at Tara's slightly open mouth, tracing the curve of her pale lips with her gaze. Willow's free hand rose to grip Tara's waist and she move the final fraction of the distance between them, to brush their lips lightly together. The feeling was electric and Tara groaned, bring her own hand up to tangle it in Willow's hair. Seeking to press their lips more firmly together, Tara grasped Willow's shoulder lightly and tugged her forward….

"DAYLIGHT! GET UP!" a rooster screamed right outside Tara's window.

Tara gasped, lurching upright, the covers pooling around her waist. Panting, she looked bewilderedly around the room, her skin flushed, cheeks rosy, and blue eyes dark with desire. Slow awareness of where she was emerged on Tara's face. "Ever after it!" Tara moaned. "I am going to _stew_ that r-rooster!"

…………………………………………………………………………………

_Elsewhere_: In her makeshift hut Willow jolted out of sleep, her unbound hair falling in her face, red roots showing under the black dye. "Trice damn that mule-fathered cock, I was just getting to the good part! Not that all the little bits weren't good…" she grumbled heatedly. "What's a rooster doing in the middle of an enchanted forest anyway?"


	8. Chapter 8

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**Spritznar**I find it hilariously ironic that you have been inspired to read the "real thing" from fanfiction… please do not ask why I now watch L&O:SVU

**NightStar28**: Sadly I have not read "One Good Knight" yet. I keep meaning to, but somehow I haven't gotten around to it yet.

**A/N: **And now, thanks to the writing time provided by spring break, an extra update.

**Chapter Eight**

"Good morning Tara," Xander said happily as she drifted into the kitchen, her hair still damp. "Sleep well?"

Tara reddened, hoping that the Brownie would chalk the pink hue of her skin to her recent bath. "Y-y-yes," She stuttered, sinking into her chair. "B-but I think one of our r-roosters got loose."

"I'll get it," Anya volunteered. "I have a great deal of experience at making cocks behave."

She trotted out of the room, practicedly ignoring the mortified expressions of everyone else in the room.

'_Sexually promiscuous'_ Tara involuntarily recalled from her reading last night, blushing. Her traitorous mind leaped backward to her own dream and she blushed even brighter. At least now she had an excuse for her tomato complexion.

Giles coughed in embarrassment. "Yes, erm, well, ah, thank you Anya," he called after her.

Tara toyed with her fork as she waited for the dishes to serve her. "What are we doing today?" she asked.

Xander grinned as Giles smiled.

"Ready to get your feet wet?" the Brownie asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Xander," Giles reprimanded. He turned to Tara who was looking at him questioningly. "Tara, you know from your reading how one of the primary functions of Godparenting is to facilitate the Tradition so that it turns out the way we want. However, we can also prevent tales that the participants do not wish to have happen to them by siphoning off the tradition."

"Yes sir," Tara said. "That's one of the ways we replenish our own magic stores."

"Quite right Tara," Giles said warmly. "Recently I have become aware that the Tradition has been gathering in Foggybottom. It appears to be preparing for a Master Cat; are you familiar with the tale?"

Tara closed her eyes remembering. It was actually one of the less common Traditions as well as one of the happier ones. "Upon the death of a poor man his youngest son is left with only a cat as inheritance. The cat promises to make the youth wealthy and powerful in exchange for its life and a magic pair of boots. The cat fulfills this promise by killing an ogre, transferring its lands to the youth and then arranging a marriage into the nobility."

Giles nodded. "Exactly. However, I spoke with the young man in question. He has exchanged promises with a girl and has no desire to give up his current life, although he is quite sad about his father's imminent passing. So, apprentice, you and I are headed to Foggybottom to see if we can't interrupt this tale before the Tradition gets to much momentum behind it. After you finish eating, Anya will help you 'dress the part' so to speak, while I arrange for a mode of transportation."

Tara bolted down the rest of her breakfast in fairly short order, her excitement currently outweighing her nerves. Anya returned just as she was finishing and the two of them headed to her room.

Anya looked at the dresses in Tara's wardrobe, quickly skipping past the plainer ones that Tara was most comfortable with. Fortunately the Satyr paused before reaching the truly fancy ones.

"Here," Anya said, pulling out two dresses. They were both in Tara's signature amber and teal. The first had puffy sleeves that looked like they would slip off her shoulders, a large bell shaped skirt, and a neckline plunged dangerously low. The second was slimmer, tapering at the waist before falling to her ankles in translucent layers of fabric like a butterfly's wing, with long, flared sleeves. "Which do you think?"

"T-that one," Tara said without hesitation, taking the second dress and ducking behind the changing screen.

Anya smirked as she put the first, hideous, dress away and grabbed a pair of dressy boots and Tara's longer star tipped wand to go with the dress.

Tara had to fumble with the fasteners on the back of the dress, breathing a sigh of relief as she got it done up properly. Tugging the seams straight, Tara stepped out from behind the screen feeling distinctly uncomfortable, obviously unaware that she looked stunning.

Anya nodded her approval before dragging Tara over to a low seat and beginning to pin up her hair in an artful arrangement. Tara tried not to move as Anya pulled her hair back and stuck bobby pins in it. She couldn't see what Anya was doing but it felt slightly weird.

"There, done!" Anya said, handing Tara a mirror so she could examine her hair. Her blondish locks were pulled loosely into a french twist, with a golden tail falling to just above her shoulders. It looked good, even if Tara felt off balance from the weight of her piled hair. "You should show your beau in town, when he sees you looking like that he won't be able to keep his hands off you. You'll get lots of orgasms," the Satyr continued.

Tara blushed at the idea of Willow seeing her in this outfit, Willow not being able to resist touching her, Willow running her hands down Tara's sides, unpinning her hair… _Never gonna happen Tara, she probably doesn't even like girls and even if she did there is no reason to think she would like **you**_.

"Thank you, Anya," Tara said finally for the compliment within the Fae's words.

"You're welcome," Anya said, noting with satisfaction the way Tara had blushed and become lost in thought. She was _so_ obviously in love. Anya cracked her knuckles subtlety; Xander would have to have a talk with this guy and make it clear that if he ever hurt Tara, they would eviscerate him.

Anya handed Tara her wand, showing her a loop at her waist where she could store it when she didn't need it. "But remember to carry it while you are there," Anya instructed sternly. "The wand is the biggest part of your costume; people will expect you to have it."

"O-okay," Tara said, not sure she was looking forward to people staring at her. "L-lets not keep M-mister Giles waiting."

"That's the spirit!" Anya said, proceeding Tara. Surprisingly she headed towards the back door that lead to the gardens rather than the front.

"Uh, Anya?" Tara began, but the woman didn't hear her as she flung open the door and trotted outside. "Oh," Tara said, as she laid eyes on Giles sitting on a huge carpet that was normally rolled up in the closet; it was hovering half a foot in the air. Suddenly she understood why they had it, despite the quirky orange print and blue tassels.

"Okay G-man, you are all prepped for flight," Xander said as he patted the weave. He turned and saw her. "Hi Tara! You look hot. Ow! Anya," he whined as the Satyr hit his arm.

"He means to say you look very pretty," Anya corrected.

"Um, thanks?" Tara said, folding her skirt carefully as she settled on to the rug.

"We'll be back in a day or so at the latest," Giles said sternly. "Up, up, and away," he commanded the rug.


	9. Chapter 9

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

_**First of all, I'm really sorry this is late, ff. net wouldn't let me load any documents until tonight. I don't anticipate having this problem again, but if I am late here people can look on Kitten Board for the update. I'm just glad I wasn't planning anything special for april fools.  
**_

**Wikked Wolfie: **Thank you, I'm glad you gave it a shot.

**Spritznar: **you inferred correctly, I started watching SVU only after reading a very good crossover fic.

**A.C. Mathur: **It's her vengeance demon side (or rather my version thereof)

**A/N: **Hope everyone had a good Passover and/or Easter; welcome to spring (as soon as this #?&! cold front goes away).

**Chapter Nine**

Tara yelped as the carpet shuddered before rising into the air. The ground fell away rapidly and Tara squeezed her eyes closed as the waving Fae became tiny blobs. She gripped that fabric under her hands tightly, defiantly averse to this mode of travel.

"Open your eyes Tara, you are really quite safe and the view is amazing from up here," Giles said calmly.

Tara cracked an eye open and immediately regretted it. The spell of the carpet must include blocking the wind, because, although she couldn't feel it, they were speeding through the sky at an alarming rate and the ground was a frightening distance away; the trees actually looked like little sprigs of broccoli. Firmly Tara closed her eyes again, refusing to open them until they landed in Foggybottom.

After what seemed, to Tara, like a mind numbingly long period of terror, Giles brought the carpet to a gentle landing, and tapped his frightened apprentice on her shoulder. "We are here Tara," he said.

Shakily Tara eased her eyes open, relieved the ground, which she had begun to doubt she would see again, was only a foot away. Quickly she scrambled inelegantly off the hovering carpet and stamped her feet surreptitiously, reassuring herself of the earth's firmness beneath her boots.

Raising her eyes, Tara was surprised at how _neat_ the small mill looked. A black and white kitten sat on the split rail fence that enclosed the property. Her head swiveled to look at the new arrivals before she yawned and stretched to show how unimpressed she was.

"About time you got here," the kitten purred. "The sun is nice today."

"Ah yes," Giles said. "it is…. Er, I don't suppose you could tell me the whereabouts of young master Trevon, could you?"

The kitten started at him and Giles shifted uncomfortably. "Barn," she said at last.

"Ah, yes, of course. Thank you," he told the kitten. "Um, Tara, would you?" he asked, gesturing at the fluff ball.

"W-w-would I w-what?" Tara asked.

"Small talk, or, or, something, until I get back. Try to explain what's going on to her; we need her cooperation in this too."

"O-okay," Tara said. She could deal with a kitten, that wasn't so scary.

Giles smiled and walked towards the humble barn on the far side of the mill, swinging his staff like a walking stick. _Staff, wand, right, _Tara remembered, pulling out her wand. She held it absently in her hand, letting its song sooth her.

The kitten watched Tara politely, her green eyes silted with sleep.

"H-hi," Tara said, catching herself as she reached out with her free hand to pet the kitten. She stood frozen, arm half extended, unsure if a Master Cat would like to be petted the same way a normal cat would.

The kitten solved Tara's dilemma for her, leaning forward to sniff Tara's fingers before butting her head against Tara's hand. Tara's faced relaxed into a smile and she rubbed the kitten's ears before trailing her hand down the silky fur, stroking the kitten's back. "Um, d-do you have a n-name?" Tara asked as she continued to pet the now purring animal.

"I am Miss Kitty Fantastico," the kitten said grandly. "But Miss Kitty will do. You're too late you know."

"Too late?" Tara asked, frowning.

"To stop the Tradition," Miss Kitty said, looking at Tara seriously.

"W-what? What do you m-mean?" Tara asked nervously, her hand stilling. Master Cats were slightly precognitive, so if Miss Kitty was sure they were too late, they probably were.

"An ogre has been lured in already." The kitten sighed. "Keep petting please."

"Sorry," Tara said running her hand down the soft back as fear knotted in her belly. _An Ogre?_

"I think I can take him," Miss Kitty said, extending her ten needle like front claws into the wood fence. "Adam doesn't seem very bright. But I really don't want to spend the rest of my life helping Trevor be a noble. He's a good kid, but he wouldn't be able to run this mill on his own, let alone a dukedom."

Approaching footsteps saved Tara from needed to reply; she had no idea what they would do now.

"Tara, I─ What's the matter?" Giles asked, as he returned with a lanky young man in a somewhat worn tunic, noticing his apprentice's pallor as she turned to face him.

"Th-there's an ogre," Tara said, faintly.

Giles' expression turned concerned. "Well," he said. "This is a problem."


	10. Chapter 10

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**The 42:** I, sadly, have not read one good knight yet. Breaking Tradition is placed about eighty years after "the Fairy Godmother." I'm considering Giles old enough to have been Elena's apprentice (not that he was), and so Tara would be the generation after that.

**Spritznar:** Yes and 'cause I'm evil.

**A/N: **Finals are (OMG! OMG!) next week so this is going to be a really (really) short update.

**Chapter Ten**

"Are you sure?" Giles asked.

"Quite sure," Miss Kitty answered for herself, ignoring Trevor's look of incredulity with ease.

"You talk," Trevor exclaimed, his voice cracking with excited disbelief on the final syllable. Tara winced in sympathy for him.

Slowly Miss Kitty turned her head, the look on her face plainly said, 'And?' "So do you."

"But you're a cat!"

As Miss Kitty glared at Trevor disdainfully, Tara hurried change the subject back to the problem at hand. "What do we do now?" she asked.

"Obviously just draining the tradition from these two won't solve anything; what we need to do now is figure out how to twist the tale so that it comes out in some more desirable fashion." Giles paused for a moment, his forehead crinkled in thought. "Clearly Miss Kitty has to defeat to Ogre, and whatever assets the beast has acquired will revert to Trevor. The question will be how to mange this so that the holdings are minimal and Trevor can still marry Miss… Amelia was it?" At Trevor's nod Giles continued. "Miss Amelia given that she and he are both of common birth and that sort of union does not feature in many Tales." The last bit he said apologetically.

"W-what if…" Tara began, loosing her nerve and looking down with a blush. She missed having her hair down since Anya's styling kept it from falling forward to obscure her face. She felt over exposed.

"Yes Tara?" Giles asked, looking at her expectantly, his eyes warmly urging her to go on.

"What if we h-had the O-ogre kidnap her?" Tara asked tentatively. "T-then M-miss Kitty could h-help Trevor rescue her." As rescuer, the Tradition would guarantee that Trevor and Amelia would fall in love, if they hadn't been already, and marry. Furthermore, animal guides were an already well established Traditional role, and would not require more of Miss Kitty then that she give aid during the quest.

Giles smiled. "Brilliant! An elegant twisting of Tradition. Crafting a spell to get the Ogre to kidnap her might be tricky, though."

"Offer her up as a sacrifice," Miss Kitty suggested. "To get the Ogre to leave people alone. Have the village hold a lottery. The tradition will compel Adam to accept her."

"Wait!" Trevor said desperately. "I don't want Amelia to be sacrificed to the Ogre."

"We won't let anything happen to her," Giles promised firmly.

It took a while to calm Trevor down and convince him that Amelia would be safe in the Ogre's hands until he could rescue her. Miss Kitty amused herself by chasing shadows, occasionally throwing in a well timed sarcastic comment which only served to increase Trevor's unease. Finally, though, he agreed to their plan.

Giles fixed Trevor sternly with a gaze, drawing himself up and radiating authority. "I need your word," he said slowly. "That you shall do _exactly_ what we, that being Tara, Myself, or Miss Kitty, tell you to do. This will be dangerous, we are trying to force the Tradition onto a slightly different path and one wrong word from you could shift it back again."

"I promise," the lad said gravely.

Giles nodded. "I would feel safer," he mused. "If Miss Kitty had some backup available in case something goes wrong. I think we need to pay a visit to Buffy."


	11. Chapter 11

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**Android k/18: ** I had hoped to get a second update in there last month but for some reason I suffered major writers block with Buffy. However, that did mean I sort-of skipped ahead while I was trying to work through it, so we might get a second update _this_ month since bits and pieces of chapter twelve are at least on paper.

**Chapter Eleven**

Tara kept her eyes firmly closed the entire flight, not opening them until the carpet landed on the battlements of the Dragon Slayer's keep. With the cool stone under her feet and a thick wall between her and the edge, Tara didn't have a problem with heights. The understated rhythm of war-drums alerted her to the Dragon Slayer's presence. Opening her eyes, Tara saw Buffy leaning against the stone wall, waving off several men at arms who relaxed their alert poses' sliding half drawn weapons back into there sheaths.

"Giles, Tara, this is a surprise. Its good to see you both again," the Dragon Slayer smiled warmly and stepped forward to offer Tara a hand up. Tara took it gratefully, not really surprised when the slight looking woman pulled her effortless up to her feet. "So, I take it you have something for me to kill?"

"Not exactly, it's a bit of a long story," Giles said as he climbed to his own feet.

"Would you like to come in then? We were about to have dinner if you would care to join us."

"We'd be delighted," Giles accepted for them both, moving to follow Buffy as she led them down a curving stone stairway into the Keep. "It's been a while since I've seen Joyce; she and Dawn are well I trust?"

"They're fine. Although Dawn is driving me and Mom both a little nuts." Buffy sighed. "She's a nice kid, but she's a little too enamored with the Tradition. I understand why you sent her to be fostered here; she definitely needed someone to keep an eye on her."

The stair case had led them into the keep proper and Buffy guided them through the halls into a large open sitting room with a high ceiling.

"This is the back entrance to the dinning hall," Buffy explained, pushing open another heavy oak door. "Serena," she called to a servant who was busily setting places. "Giles and his apprentice, Tara, are joining us for dinner; could you send someone to tell Mom?"

The woman nodded. "Of course, Dame Summers."

Tara raised her eyebrows at the title. "You've been knighted?" She asked the Dragon Slayer.

"Yeah," Buffy shrugged. "By the Princess Rose actually, after I killed Glorificus, the Gold Dragon. My first kill. The only dragon I've killed actually; they are rather rare around here you know." Tara nodded, unsurprised that 50 ft, and upwards, flying reptiles would be solitary hunters with large territories. "I only know of one other," Buffy continued. "The Silver Dragon, Angelus, and he's actually quite nice, so no need for killing there."

"Giles?" a new voice called. Tara turned to see a slender older woman in fine clothes enter the sitting room behind them, accompanied by a dark haired girl with wide blue eyes. A very soft hum accompanied the girl, but it didn't sound as if the tradition was actively gather around her; it was more as if she simply possessed some innate magical nature.

"Joyce." Giles took Buffy's mother's hand and bowed over it. "How delightful to see you again. Miss Dawn."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Hi Giles," the blue eyes focused on Tara. "You're his apprentice?"

"Y-yes," Tara felt a blush rise in her cheeks at the stutter, resisting the urge to curtsey to these women. "Tara Maclay."

"Cool," Dawn nodded. She extended her right arm and Tara uncertainly met it in a warrior's clasp, assuming that Dawn had probably picked up this habit from the Dragon Slayer. "Do you, like, cast spells and stuff?" Her eyes practically sparkled with her excitement, reminding Tara vaguely of someone.

"Um, well I h-haven't done much y-yet, aside from my witch lessons. I only m-met the Fairy Queen a few days ago."

"_Really_? What was she like? Giles never tells me anything interesting."

Tara glanced at Giles for instruction, but he was involved in conversation with Joyce. Buffy shrugged her shoulders, but she looked interested in what Dawn had asked too. "Well…" Tara began.

………………………………………………………………………..

Tara shut the door to the guest room Buffy had pointed her toward with a sigh and flopped backward onto her bed. They had stayed up quite late, making good use of the sitting room's fire place as parlor games and conversation carried them to the edge of exhaustion. Despite her intention to at least slip out of her gown and splash some water on her face, she was asleep a few moments later.

"Hey, Tara?" Willow asked, glancing sideways at the girl sitting next to her as her left hand nervously drew circles in the sand.

"Yeah?" Tara pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned forward, pillowing her head in her arms, her face turned sideways to face the other woman.

"Is something bothering you?" the circles Willow was tracing grew smaller, tighter. "You seem far away tonight."

Tara freed one of her arms to reach out and capture Willows hand, lacing their sandy fingers together. "I'm worried," she admitted. "I haven't tried to influence the Tradition directly before, much less try to force it to do something. What if Giles needs me to do something and I mess up? What if I don't have enough magic left to make it work? Since my tale has been broken I'm not collecting any more magic on my own and this trip was supposed to teach me how to drain it into myself but…." Tara shook her head wordlessly.

"Take some of mine."

"What?" Tara looked at Willow in shock. "I couldn't."

"Yes you can; I'm offering," Willow smiled teasingly.

There eyes met and Willow lifted a hand to Tara's forehead, letting her fingers trail against skin as she pushed a blonde lock of hair out of the way.

"Okay," Tara said softly.

"Okay?" Willow smiled.

Tara nodded.

"So," Willow moved so that she was kneeling in front of Tara. "What do I do?"

"Um, well Giles explained the theory to me." Tara moved to so she was kneeling too, and reached out both hands to Willow. "Ready?"

"Yep," Willow grinned, but she also sounded slightly nervous.

"Are you sure?" Tara asked.

Willow gripped Tara's hands tighter, stilling her words. "I'm sure," she said. "I trust you."

A warmth suffused Tara chest. She took a deep breath and let her next words fall in melodically even cadence. "Sorceress Willow, do you, freely and of your own accord, relinquish your power for the good of the kingdom?"

Willow nodded. "Yes. Uh, I mean I do, freely relinquish my power…. Oh, that feels weird." The gentle melody of Willows magic changed; first harmonizing with Tara, then blending.

"Then, I, Fairy Godmother Tara, do freely and of my own accord accept this power and the responsibility it entails, for the good of the kingdom," Tara voice drifted in their combined song, directing it.

"Oh, Tara look," Willows voiced was hushed. "They are turning blue."

"Huh?" Tara managed to ask, as she got caught up in the feeling of Willow's magic _becoming_ hers.

"My green sparks are mixing with your aura and slowly turning blue; it's so pretty," She said, describing what Tara was hearing.

Tara's chest rose and fell rapidly, the feeling was so intimate. More intimate that she had expected.

Tara let go of Willows hands and the connection stopped. They sat quietly as their breathing slowed.

"Did you get enough?" Willow finally asked.

"Yeah," Tara nodded. "That was…"

"Intense," Willow finished for her.

"Are you okay? I didn't take too much?" Tara questioned, wanting to be sure, even though Willow looked fine.

"No, you didn't take all that much. I'm good. Better really."

"Better than good?" Tara teased, recalling their earlier conversation.

"Definitely," Willow smiled. "Do you feel better? About tomorrow I mean?"

Tara nodded. "Yeah, I mean I'm still nervous, but you help me not feel scared."

Willow blushed. "Good, I'm glad I could help. Even if it is only a dream."

Tara reached for her hand again. "You did help, Willow." The smile that accompanied her next words was slightly bittersweet. "Even if it _is _only a dream."


	12. Chapter 12

**I own nothing. I also posted this fic as Selena on the Kitten Board**

**Android k/18: **Thanks. :)

**The 42: **purple oceans are, indeed, fun. I only get to go to the boring normal beach… ;)

**Spritznar:** I'm glad you like the cuteness; I can't help but be fluffy when it comes to Willow and Tara.

**Chapter Twelve**

"It was _only_ a dream," Tara whispered to herself. "It was only a _dream_." She pulled the heavy hood of the disguising cloak Buffy had lent her lower over her face, resolutely turning her attention to the unusually grave and quite townspeople gathering under the midmorning sun. Tara was not thinking about the carpet ride back to Foggybottom where Buffy had enthusiastically leaned over the edge of the carpet, commenting loudly on the landscape miles below them. Nor was Tara thinking about the steadily building hum of magic as the Tradition gathered itself to drive the Tale forward. And she certainly was not thinking about exactly why her own magic felt so plentiful. In fact, Tara decided, she was thinking about nothing at all; except maybe how hot the cloak was and how grimy she felt wearing yesterday's clothes in which she had inadvertently slept. A bead of sweat was tortuously making its way down her back, just off center of her spine, making Tara squirm.

"It was only a dream" Tara whispered fiercely, blushing at how forward her behavior had been, would have been, if it had actually been Willow, which it wasn't. "It was_ only a dream!"_

"Did you say something?" Giles asked softly, from under his own concealing cloak.

Tara felt the blood rush to her face. "N-n-no," she lied, turning her attention back to the crowd to watch as Sir Armin, the local authority for Foggybottom, made his way to stand on a crate at the front of the crowed. Giles frowned at her, but also turned forward to meet Sir Armin's eyes as the nervous looking man sought Giles' gaze out in the crowd. The Fairy Godfather nodded once. Swallowing heavily, Sir Armin nodded back.

"Do you remember what you are supposed to do?" Giles asked the pair of young lovers who were standing in front of them. Amelia, who proved to be a short, rather shapely brunette with light brown eyes, nodded curtly, her jaw clenched. Trevor, looking equally tense, whispered softly back, "Yes Godfather."

"Alright then, Trevor, you had best go to the mill. Remember not to return until after sundown."

Giving Amelia a quick kiss on the cheek, Trevor walked quickly away without looking back.

"May I have you attention," Sir Armin called from the podium. His throat worked fearfully as the crowd focused on him. "As you know, an Ogre has been menacing our village." As he spoke, the Tradition began to build around him, causing his words to fall into a hypnotic rhythm. "In an effort to appease this vile beast we must present it with a sacrifice. We shall leave the most lovely and nubile of our maids tied to a post just outside the village. This single life shall save the lives of our entire village! All that are eligible must participate in the lottery; not even my own foster daughter," he glanced at Amelia, who had been given into his foster care late the prior evening, under Giles' and Tara's direction. "Will be exempt."

The was much murmuring and general rumbles of disquiet but Giles was humming softly, weaving his magic with the tradition, so no actual voice rose to protest the rather alarming solution to the Ogre problem. Some wept openly when Sir Armin drew forth a slip of parchment and mothers clutched their daughters closer. The mayor unfolded it with shaking hands; a hitched sob escaping as he saw the name written there.

"Over doing it a little is he?" Miss Kitty whispered.

"No. Shh," Giles replied curtly out of the corner of his mouth. The Tradition was thick around them now. Under Sir Armin's direction two burly, pitchfork toting, young men roughly grabbed Amelia's arms and force marched her out of the square. "Alright, Miss Kitty, you had best get in to position."

Licking her shoulder nonchalantly, Miss Kitty glanced up at him, and then stretched; just to be sure she wasn't leaving because someone had told her to. Retracting her claws she trotting off, tail high, like a sinuous black and white banner.

Now there was nothing to do but wait.

And watch.

And be prepared to step in if things went horribly, horribly wrong.

Tara swallowed nervously. This had been her plan; the responsibility was on her shoulders.

"Relax," Giles told her. "The Tradition is headed in the way we want, Buffy is in place, and _we_ are here to back _her_ up. It's going to be fine."

Tara swallowed. "There s-should be a rule against saying something like th-that," She responded, managing a weak smile. "It's almost like daring something to go w-wrong."

"Something always goes wrong Tara, but we are prepared."

"Are you nervous?" Tara asked.

"Always." Giles patted her shoulder. "But you have to trust in your abilities to handle whatever situation might arise." Giles reached up a hand to adjust his spectacles "I have great faith in both you and Buffy," he added awkwardly.

Unbidden Willow's face rose in Tara memory, her green eyes intense and uncommonly serious. '_I trust you_' she had said. Tara curled her fingers into her palm, remembering how Willows hand's had felt in hers.

"W-we should go keep watch," she told Giles. "For when things go wrong."


End file.
